


Red is the Blood

by Lady_Zephyr



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Blood, F/M, Feelings, Flowers, Hanahaki Disease, Surgery, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 00:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13625181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Zephyr/pseuds/Lady_Zephyr
Summary: It started with a single petal.Guzma doesn't know what it means when he suddenly finds himself coughing up flower petals. He tries to hide it, but you can only hide something like this for so long.





	Red is the Blood

**Author's Note:**

> So I just learned what hanahaki disease is, and holy cow it's so tragic and beautiful. I knew I had to write a fic about Guzma and Lusamine as soon as I heard about it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It started with a single petal. A tiny, white pad coughed up into the palm of his hand. He looked at it with curiosity. Was this part of that hideous salad Lusamine had made him eat during their lunch meeting? He didn’t recall it including flowers, but he supposed he could have overlooked the ingredient in his disdain. He only ate the damn thing because she had ordered it for him, because she had smiled as they shared a meal together. Whatever, it had tasted like shit anyway. With a scowl, Guzma brushed his palm against the bottom of his jacket, the white petal lost in the motion. 

\----------------------------

The second time it happened was more confusing than the first. Guzma was alone in his room, plotting the team’s next move when his chest tightened. He coughed loudly, trying to rid his body of the sensation. With a pained inhale, he closed his eyes and coughed forcefully into the crook of his arm. As he pulled away, a movement caught his eye. There on the floor, another delicate petal larger than the first. 

He reached for it, plucking the white dot from the floor. Between his fingers the petal was soft, its color a sharp contrast to the graffiti covering the walls. He pressed tightly and a drop of liquid wetted his fingers. It smelled like roses. Did roses even grow in Alola? If they did, they certainly didn’t grow near the Shady House. 

Guzma didn’t understand where it had come from. This thing had come from him, _inside_ of him, but how? Flowers didn’t just grow inside people did they? Maybe he was turning into a pokemon. It was an absurd thought and he chuckled before letting the petal fall away. He had more important things to do than wonder why he had coughed up a flower petal. His job was to steal pokemon for Lusamine.

And he was determined to do a good job.

\----------------------------

The weeks flew by quickly. The grunts had been working efficiently, stealing or capturing every pokemon they could get their hands on. Guzma didn’t know what she needed them for, and he didn’t care. All that mattered was that Lusamine thought he was doing a good job. 

As he sat across from her at the conference table, she cooed over his progress.

“The plans are progressing right on schedule.  
It shouldn’t be more than a few months now.  
Let your team know they’re doing a great job.  
We wouldn’t be able to do this without you, _darling._ ”

His chest tightened and he forced back the cough rising in his lungs. Don’t show weakness. Not in front of her. She said you’re doing a good job. Don’t fuck it up.

Lusamine looked down at her papers and began writing. A moment later she looked back up. 

“Oh, you’re still here? Sweetie, don’t you have a job to do?”

She shooed him away with a flick of her wrists, long slender fingers pointing him toward the door. He left quickly, the tickling sensation rising within his lungs. As soon as the door closed, he fell to his knees and slumped against the wall. He coughed painfully, white petals falling from his mouth. He hated how he could feel them rising up from his throat. Hated the taste of them as they brushed against his tongue. Hated even more when he stepped on them later, their scent reminding him of the blonde haired beauty he worked for. 

But most of all he hated trying to hide the disease from everyone else. He knew he should see a doctor. People didn’t just cough up flower petals. The tight feeling in his chest wasn’t natural. The way he couldn’t take a deep breath without coughing wasn’t natural. But he was the most hated man in Alola. He couldn’t very well walk into a hospital and ask to be seen. No one in their right mind would see the mighty leader of Team Skull. And even if they did, where would he get the money to pay for it?

He breathed shallowly for a few moments. Grabbing the petals, he shoved them in his pocket. It wouldn’t do to have someone find them littered outside of Lusamine’s room. Catching his breath, he stood with his head held tall and marched out of the building.

\---------------------------------

Lusamine had been calling him for meetings more often lately. There was a big plan in motion and he was supposed to play a vital part. As he followed Wicke through the too white halls, he could feel his chest tightening. _Not again. Not here._ His coughing fits had been getting worse and worse, petals falling from his throat covered with blood. Thorns that worked their way through his lungs, scraping and cutting their way out of him. He didn’t know what it meant, and he didn’t care. All he knew was he had to keep moving forward. He couldn’t disappoint Lusamine.

When they reached her room, Wicke turned and asked Guzma to wait until Lusamine instructed him to enter. She grinned at him with a smile that could outshine the sun before turning and walking away. He gave an awkward grin in response and waved her a good-bye. He couldn’t be mean to her, she was just too damn kind. He thought it was good that she was part of the Aether Foundation. She wouldn’t last a day in Team Skull.

Lusamine was either very busy or she enjoyed making him wait. He kept checking his watch, annoyance rising as the minutes passed. When he finally had enough, he knocked on the door.

“Lusamine, c’mon I’ve been waiting for at least half an hour.” 

A moment later the door swung open and the blonde haired woman stood behind it, grinning up at him. 

“Oh, my _sincerest_ apologies Guzma, dear.” She turned and walked back into the room and he followed. “Our preparations are just about complete. And it’s all thanks to you.”

His heart swelled. All he had ever wanted was to do a good job. To make Lusamine proud of him. The itching sensation gripped his lungs and he fought to remain still. Guzma shifted uncomfortably as he approached the familiar table. His face was contorted into a grimace and he turned his head to cough lightly, trying to appease the feeling in his chest without causing a scene.

“Now, I called you here today to discuss the final stages of the plan.” Her delicate fingers shuffled the papers spread out on the table. She reached through seemingly at random, and pulled out a stack of papers neatly stapled together. She slid the file over to him, his troubled look catching her attention. “Are you feeling all right? We can’t have you getting sick at this stage.”

Guzma shook his head, hair bouncing back with the force of the motion. 

“I’m fine. Just a chest cold or somethin’. Must’a caught it from one of the gru-” A painful cough wracked his body. His hand flew to his mouth, but he couldn’t stop the flowers from spilling onto the table. Whole white roses covered with red, pieces of thorny stems still attached. Spots of blood splattered across the pristine white surface, and his eyes went wide with shock. He had been doing so well. Why now? Why did it have to be when he was doing so well?

Slender eyebrows raised in a look of surprise. Lusamine stood from her seat and circled the table, coming to Guzma’s side. Her fingers brushed delicately against one of the flowers, picking it up and turning it over, inspecting it from all angles. 

“How long have you been coughing up flowers?” Her voice was cold. “And why haven’t you had this taken care of yet?” She let the flower fall from her hand into the drops of blood on the table. She turned her icy gaze toward Guzma, a look of disappointment clearly displayed. He wiped at the blood on the corner of his mouth, eyes cast down at the mess before him. 

“I’m not sure. A few months at least. It doesn’t matter. It’s not a problem. I can still work. I’ve been workin’ through it this whole time.” He couldn’t look at her. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes. She reached for his jaw, warm fingers digging into his flesh as she turned his face toward her. The bright green of her eyes seethed with rage, but when she spoke it was only in the sweetest honeyed tone.

“Oh dear, this just won’t do. You see this is a terrible disease - deadly in fact. But don’t worry, I have the best doctors in Alola at my disposal. We’ll take care of this little problem and have you back on your feet in no time.” She spoke with authority. Letting his head drop, she walked to the phone attached to her desk. She picked up the handle and sang into the receiver. “Wicke, darling, be a dear and send Faba to my office. Immediately.” She hung up the phone and glared back toward Guzma, a wicked grin splitting her lips. 

Faba marched into the office with his head held high. He took one look at the bloody roses on the desk before Guzma and knew immediately why he was called. He turned to Lusamine and bowed slightly.

“Do not worry yourself, Madame. I shall see to the issue personally.” Turning to Guzma he addressed him quite blatantly. “Follow me, we’ll get you prepped for surgery. It’ll be over before you know it.” Guzma looked to Lusamine for assurance. She nodded her head before making that same shooing motion Guzma had come to recognize. The conversation was finished, better to just follow along and ask about it later.

\-----------------------

He followed Faba to the elevator and into the bowels of the facility. Deep under the ground, the walls took on a darker, rougher quality. This was no hospital, Faba was no doctor. This was a laboratory, and Guzma felt he was a rat being led to a test chamber.

“Do you know what’s wrong with me?” Guzma asked. He might as well know what he was getting himself into. Faba frowned. It was a look that did not instill confidence within Guzma.

“You have a disease called hanahaki, and judging by the size of the flowers it’s in a pretty advanced stage. No need to worry, I’ve performed the operation several times before. I can assure you, you’re in very capable hands.” As they approached an unmarked door, Faba produced a card key from the pocket of his lab coat. He swiped the card and the door opened with a soft whirr. He motioned for Guzma to enter before locking him inside. “I’ll be back momentarily. Try to relax.” The man turned swiftly and walked away before Guzma had a chance to react. Some explanation that was.

The room was small. A white bench was attached to the wall, and a small shelf filled with books waited at the back. It reminded Guzma of a fancy prison cell. He knocked on the door, but finding it had no handles, gave up trying to escape. Oh well, at least the bench was cushioned. Sitting down, he rested his head in his hands. What was he doing here? How could he have let this happen? He should have drank more vitamin C. Ate more healthy foods. He should have seen a doctor months ago. He would never forget the look of disgust on Lusamine’s face when she saw the bloody roses. 

Faba returned some time later, announcing that they were ready to go through with the operation. Guzma followed obediently. He changed into the hospital gown provided for him, lay down on the cold operating table, and barely flinched when the IV was inserted into his arm. No questions, no resisting. This was for Lusamine. He would do anything for her. The realization set in as the drugs were starting to take effect. He wanted to get better so that he could see her again. See her smile again. Hear her tell him what a good job he was doing. In the end she was all that mattered. 

As the blackness infiltrated his mind, Guzma had one last thought. 

_I love her._

\-----------------------

He was cold when he woke up. A blanket had been placed over top of him, but it did little to combat the ice flowing through his veins. He turned his head, stared at the clean white walls, and realized he was still somewhere in the Aether Foundation facility. He closed his eyes again and let the fog clear from his mind. He was alive. The pain in his chest was gone. Guess that meant the surgery was a success. 

The next few days went by in a literal blur. He was led from chamber to chamber by lab assistants. He recognized the kind words they spoke, but he heard only droll, monotonous voices. Once vibrant colors had lost their sharp definition, and everything seemed to wear a grey halo. He ate foods he knew he loved, but found them bland and tasteless, with no discernible odor. 

It felt like someone had sucked the life from his body.

Faba assured him it was just a simple side effect of the surgery. The flowers roots had taken a deep hold within him and for a while they weren’t sure he was going to pull through. But he was assured the color would return, and foods would taste delicious again. He just had to wait. 

When they let him go home he had no idea what to do with himself. He returned to the Shady House, but the drive he had to lead Team Skull had vanished. He found himself wandering through the mansion, wandering through the town, wandering to nowhere in particular. He decided he was looking for something, and although he had no idea what he was supposed to be looking for, he knew that something was missing. As the days passed he realized what he was looking for wasn’t a tangible object. Something was missing inside of him. He felt a void in his chest, in the same space where the flowers had once bloomed. He had a feeling the emptiness was related to the surgery.

For the first time since he had come home, Guzma opened his laptop and typed in the name of the disease. Hanahaki. _To throw up flowers._ Well wasn’t that a fitting name. He read through page after page of information, coming to the same conclusion every time. The same phrase - _unrequited love._

That’s what he had been missing. An emotion. The feeling of love. He hadn’t even realized he was in love with Lusamine. But she had recognized it immediately. As soon as she saw that first bloody rose fall from his lips. It’s why she called for Faba so quickly, why he didn’t explain anything as Guzma was thrown under the knife. Why he was pushed out the door with a simple ‘it’ll get better.’ Maybe it was better this way. Lusamine never would have returned his feelings.

In a way she had saved his life.

\-----------------------

He was surprised when he heard about it. Lusamine had gone through with her plan. Entered the worm hole into Ultra Space. But when she returned she was a different person. He heard whispers that she had died, even though her body was still alive. It couldn’t be true, she was too strong. Nothing could stop her. 

He had to see for himself.

\-----------------------

He stared at her, at the shell of a human she had once been. Sitting upright in her chair, staring off into the distance. Guzma approached and sat in the seat directly opposite. Her eyes that had once been the brightest emeralds, had faded to a dull mossy hue. He waved his hand in front of her face, snapped his fingers, even dared to poke at her nose. She blinked in response, but perhaps that was just an involuntary motion spurred on by the physical contact.

It was true, she was empty. _Just like he was now._ Perhaps this was for the best. He felt a familiar pull at the void in his chest. A distant memory of what once lived there. He stared at her for a few more moments, watching the rise and fall of her chest, proof that she was, indeed, still alive.

Without a word he got up and walked out. There was nothing left to say. Nothing left to feel. He wanted to feel sorry for her. He wanted to be angry at how she had used him, feel happy for the way she was now. But every time he thought of Lusamine he was met with nothing. Everything he had felt had been removed with the roses.

**Author's Note:**

> I rushed the ending, but that's ok. I still like how it turned out.
> 
> I like making friends!  
> Come scream about video games with me on [tumblr](https://lady-zephyr.tumblr.com)


End file.
